


Puzzle Pieces

by Elsey8



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing Clothes, They're both oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey8/pseuds/Elsey8
Summary: Akira and all the times Ryuji has let him wear his jacket.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 183





	Puzzle Pieces

Akira tries to keep his head down and stay out of trouble the majority of the time. It’s how he’s learned to live. The reason he stays quiet is because speaking too much, too loud, has only ever gone badly for him. Making too much of a fuss is what got him into this mess in the first place. 

It gives him a lot of time to just listen to people. Too many people count on others not paying attention to their conversations, and he hears it all. Whispering isn’t nearly as quiet as people may think. 

He hears everything there is to hear about Shujin. The ones he pays attention to are the things about Ryuji. Akira doesn’t have anything but a few days of knowing Ryuji while needing to trust him with something as important as watching his back in the Palace. He needs to listen, needs to know everything he can scrounge up because otherwise he’s not going to be able to put the needed trust into Ryuji. 

Every rumor, every nasty comment, all of the one star reviews that come out of people while Akira is walking down the hallway to his next class. He takes it all, and he files it away to compare with what he already knows. 

There are some nice things, few and far between. People who talk about the track star, a victim of Kamoshida, mention that at least Ryuji is...a  _ genuine  _ person. 

Akira hears everything under the sun, and nothing makes him pause for a moment in his one track collision with him. Ryuji isn’t the type to do things halfway, he’s not going to deceive Akira at any step. So Akira feels just fine putting all the trust he can manage into him and charging forward. 

Things start and stop around the Phantom Thieves. Akira’s life isn’t his life without them, without the group and Leblanc and the things they do. 

He made his connections through them, with them. 

Ryuji shouldn’t stand out as anything but the first. Still. 

He does. Akira doesn’t know how else to explain it. He just does. 

Akira tries to implement his easy approach of watching and listening. Nodding for engagement, shaking his head when the conversation calls for disagreement. Watching body language for ways to react, ways to tell people he’s listening, he’s invested, he’s just lending them an ear. He is there to be a stable wall, to keep the secrets and feelings of others and work through the problems. Rinse and repeat for each person he knows. 

Ryuji isn’t exactly one of those people. He draws out the words Akira tries to guard to his chest.

Akira isn’t sure if they actually fit, or if he’s molded himself to make them fit, or if Ryuji has simply pressed against him enough times that it feels like they fit anyway. Maybe it’s some combination of those things, or something else entirely. 

No matter what the reason is, Akira feels a sense of belonging with him. Something deep in him that slots into place like it’s making a home where there’s never been anything. Filling a space that’s always been empty. 

Akira feels many, complicated things when it comes to Ryuji. 

It’s been like that from the beginning, born from picking through his information and what others provided for him to match up and compare. To look at Ryuji as closely as he could and just determine, decide how it is he should feel about him. It led to things getting tangled, a deep sense of trust being what their entire relationship was built on. When things get too confusing, that’s what Akira can count on. 

And that...it shouldn’t feel as big of a deal as it does when Ryuji drapes his jacket around Akira’s shoulders in the middle of a meeting. 

It’s cold on the roof, and Akira had to take off his school jacket because he spilled curry on it, so he’s left shivering in place. He doesn’t say a thing of complaint, just holds his arms close and hopes the meeting will be over soon. Ryuji and Ann are arguing about something or other, he isn’t sure. 

Ryuji doesn’t pause in his ramblings as he sheds his signature jacket and drops it over Akira. 

It’s warm.

“Thank you,” Akira says. 

He shuts his mouth quickly, but the words are already out. Ryuji is looking at him, and then his face breaks out in this wide grin. 

“Anytime!” 

Akira slips his arms through the sleeves and zips it up to soak up as much of the warmth as possible and keeps his lips sealed for the rest of the meeting until they disband. 

Ryuji keeps glancing at him for input, and Akira keeps things to a simple nod or shake of his head. Even if it’s difficult to see how Ryuji’s disappointment drags his shoulders down and tugs at his mouth until it turns into a frown. 

Ryuji forgets to take his jacket back, and by the time Akira finds his voice to call out to him he’s too far away. 

Akira tucks his chin into the collar and tells Morgana to shut up when he comments on it.

It’s not on purpose that he goes to school with it the next day. He left his uniform jacket on the roof in his hurry to escape from the slightly uncomfortable situation of being seen. 

There’s a slight chill, and Akira has his own jackets but why would he ever wear those when he has Ryuji’s? He has to return it anyway, and that’s how he rationalizes it as he steps in the school gates with Ryuji’s jacket.

The whispering starts immediately. Akira listens carefully to every comment they make, about how perfect they are for each other, both delinquents as they are. Violent, scary, they  _ ruin  _ things. Some people are jealous, so jealous. Their words cut deep, that Ryuji could never deserve him, that things will fall apart and oh don’t cry I’m sure Akira will dump him soon and you can have a chance. Akira isn’t sure why it bothers him so much, but then again he’s always been bothered when people speak badly of Ryuji. 

Akira zips the jacket up and shoves his hands in his pockets looking for Ryuji in the halls. He searches each floor carefully, listening and looking for him at the same time. Once he gets to the top floor, he’s pretty resigned to the fact that Ryuji is late to school and probably isn’t even here yet. 

Then Ryuji comes bounding down from the stairs to the roof and Akira just barely steps out of the way before his momentum carries him right into a collision. 

Ryuji is panting, and he’s got Akira’s uniform jacket in his hand.

“Good morning,” Akira greets quietly. 

He isn’t sure Ryuji even heard him at first, considering he doesn’t so much as look at him. Akira isn’t sure Ryuji realizes he’s there, but then he straightens, panting. He shoves the jacket at Akira with a red face.

“I...I knew you left your jacket! So I tried to get here early to grab it, and my mom gave me a spot remover or something? So I was on the roof cleaning it and all of the sudden I looked at the time and I knew you’d be here so I came running down. I’m so glad I caught you! I didn’t know if you had a spare uniform, so...yeah. I just figured, it’s probably my fault you spilled curry during lunch since I was being loud, right? Plus I wanted to help, you know? I’m probably overexplaining now, but. Here!”

Akira takes the jacket and looks down at Ryuji’s. The way it hangs perfectly on him because it’s loose on Ryuji and he’s just a little taller. It’s warm. Akira isn’t sure  _ what  _ Ryuji exactly smells like, but the jacket smells like that too. 

He slowly takes it off and puts his uniform jacket back on. 

“Here,” he offers back.

Ryuji has already turned around, though. He’s flattening his hair and shoving something that looks like some cleaner in his pocket. 

“Running late, I gotta go! Talk to me at lunch!” 

Ryuji’s back is to him, and he’s already taking off down the stairs. He didn’t even see Akira’s attempt to return the clothing. 

If Ann can wear her jacket over the uniform, it’s probably fine. So Akira puts it back on and goes to class. He doesn’t feel like carrying it or putting it away, so...it’s only logical. Akira runs cold anyway. 

He is planning on giving Ryuji back his jacket at  _ some  _ point. He really isn’t going to keep it forever. But every time Akira tries, he can’t get Ryuji’s attention in time anyway.

Ryuji must realize, because it’s not like Akira tries to hide it. He wears it every day now, so much that it’s become commonplace. Ryuji never asks for it back, and Akira stops offering. 

But there is one day, where Ryuji shows up without even his own uniform jacket and Akira sees a strict teacher walking down the hall from where he’s talking to Ryuji. 

He doesn’t think, he just moves. He slips Ryuji’s jacket off and his own with it. He doesn’t have more of a plan, just takes his uniform jacket and throws it around Ryuji’s shoulders. Ryuji slips his arms in the sleeves, probably fueled by the half panic in Akira’s eyes. 

Akira pulls him a half step closer and buttons it up, smoothing the whole thing down just as the teacher passes them with a half glare. But she doesn’t say anything.

Which is a miracle, because doing such a thing left  _ Akira  _ without most of his uniform too. Maybe she just had mercy since he’s wearing his suspenders and she saw the whole exchange as is. 

Akira sighs and glances at Ryuji. 

And Ryuji is looking up at him. Sweet and open and grateful. 

Akira’s heart gives some half hearted pumps, and he’s never moved away so fast. He pulls his hands up first, then takes a full two steps back. Removing himself from Ryuji’s space. Not running away, just...stepping back. 

“Thanks,” Ryuji says. 

Akira feels hot, and he just nods, averting his eyes. 

Ryuji moves so he’s back in Akira’s sight. He points to his jacket on the floor in a heap, where Akira dropped it in haste to keep Ryuji from trouble. 

“You want me to wash my jacket for you?” Ryuji asks.

Akira has a lot of things he wants to ask. 

What does that mean? Can Akira have it back after? Can Ryuji wear it for a while so it stops slowly smelling more and more like Akira? The appeal is that it’s  _ Ryuji’s  _ jacket. Why is Ryuji letting him keep it? Has he noticed? Is this okay? What does this mean?

Akira doesn’t really know what any of this is supposed to be. He wants to ask Ryuji what he’s thinking. 

“Yes,” Akira says. “Thank you.”

It’s a few days. 

Ryuji gives Akira back his uniform jacket at the end of the day and takes his own home. Ryuji wears his jacket again for a few days, and the whispers start up again. Akira wants to snap that they’re not dating at all of the people who wonder out loud if they broke up. 

Akira assumes this was just an excuse for Ryuji to get his jacket back, though. Maybe he felt bad asking after so much time, which Akira can relate to. It’s fine, it’s not like...he needs it back anyway. It wasn’t his in the first place. 

He sort of resumes business as usual, if a little colder for it. Morgana makes another comment and Akira tells him to shut up again. 

But the next Monday, Ryuji catches him before school. Akira has only just barely stopped before Ryuji is shrugging his jacket off and fitting it over Akira’s shoulders. He has to pull Akira down a little for it, and in his shock he simply goes and lets Ryuji do what he wants. 

Akira can’t move. He doesn’t know if he’s breathing.

“You good?” Ryuji asks. “Ma got a new detergent since there was a sale, is it bothering you?” 

Akira moves away when Ryuji goes to take the jacket back, and it’s all he really can do. He can’t begin to put the words together to ask Ryuji to please not take it back. 

Ryuji just smiles and keeps walking while he talks about what his mom made for dinner and how he can’t believe it’s already the beginning of the week again. He launches into a story he’s told Akira twice already, and he just lets him. He doesn’t know if he could ever get bored of the same story told a million times as long as it came out in Ryuji’s voice. 

Akira eventually finds the strength to fix the jacket to the way he likes to wear it, as close as possible. Ryuji doesn’t mention anything about it, and it becomes...a thing. 

Ann offers her own on the couple of days every month that Akira can’t have Ryuji’s, but he turns it down. 

It’s something wordless that they do, mostly because Ryuji does these things without thinking and Akira can’t find the words he wants to say anyway. 

So it just sort of is what it is, for months. 

Until the...until Akira...until after Sae’s Palace.

Ryuji is the only one at Leblanc when Sae brings him back. Sojiro is behind the counter, but with a glance tossed between him, Ryuji, and Sae, he’s rushing out the door. 

Sae settles him into the booth where Ryuji is sitting. She says something to him that he can’t begin to hear, and then she leaves. 

Akira drops his head down to rest on the table and closes his eyes. He’s cold. His body hurts. His head is pounding. He can hardly hear, everything is still so far away and he can’t get a grip on his own mind. 

So if he rests his face in his arms and curls up to be as small as he can while he waits for Sojiro to come back with whatever help he’s getting, he can’t be blamed. Ryuji won’t blame him. He’ll be safe here with Ryuji, so it’s fine anyway. 

And then he’s warm. Lifting his head to try and look hurts, and there’s a hand pressing his face back into his arms so he just goes. The same hand stays on the back of his head, slowly twirling curls around and scratching and petting and  _ soothing  _ the deep ache inside of him.

Akira might pass out or maybe it’s something as gentle as falling asleep. He drifts in and out. Voices, someone poking at him, being jostled and moved. He thinks someone carries him upstairs, but everything is still too much for Akira to register who it might be. 

When he comes back to himself he feels a little better. He’s laying in his bed, and he opens his eyes to water and pills. When he reaches for them, Ryuji’s jacket slips from where it was draped over him. 

Akira isn’t sure how many times that day he texts Ryuji to say thank you. He keeps forgetting he already has and doing it again, and it doesn’t help that the medicine Takemi gave him is making him loopy. Every time he sees the jacket again, he thinks,  _ I have to thank him for this.  _

Ryuji claims he thanks him dozens of times over it, but Akira is sure it was only a few. That’s the story he’s sticking to, anyway. 

Akira knows there are a lot bigger things to worry about. They have another target, he’s pretending to be dead. There are more people in the world than just Ryuji. 

Things like that. 

Akira thinks about Ryuji most of the time. While he’s wandering around keeping his head down he thinks about Ryuji and how badly he  _ wants _ . 

When he tells Ann he thinks he has feelings for Ryuji, she laughs at him for ten minutes straight. Apparently, he was the only one who didn’t know. 

He probably should’ve known, but Akira has never been good at dealing with his feelings. Emotions have failed him before, so most of the time he just sets them aside. They get in the way more often than not. 

Although maybe this was the one time he should’ve looked at himself as carefully as he does other people. Maybe then he wouldn’t have chosen such a bad time to realize these things. 

Because then again, there are more important things. He has time, he reasons. They have time. 

They need to take care of Shido, and then Akira will have plenty of time before he has to go home. It’s not  _ plenty  _ of time, and it’s a bad idea to tell Ryuji anything right before he has to leave and he knows it. 

Akira uses it as a careful excuse to avoid breathing a word of his realization to Ryuji. They keep doing the jacket thing, though. Ryuji comes over so much, Akira’s bed is starting to smell like him too.

After Shido, Akira doesn’t get the moment of respite that he expected. He doesn’t get the time he was putting so much faith in. It may have been an excuse, but it was an excuse that Akira had an end to. He was supposed to...be able to do more than get dragged along. 

The end of the world doesn’t wait for him to tie up his loose ends, it creeps up on him like a building dread before it crashes into his life and demands that he deals with it. 

Who else? 

Akira goes through the motions. He holds his convictions right up next to his heart and he doesn’t let go. He has to hold on for dear life, but he manages to wrest it away when temptations grab for it. 

Akira pulls through to the end, tired. 

When Sae needs help, more  _ help _ , she needs him to do something he never wanted to do again. It’s what’s right, it’s what he should do, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to curl up in his bed and stay there forever. He wants to stay here, he doesn’t want anything to do with the way the rest of this is destined to play out. He doesn’t want them to hurt him again. He doesn’t want to ever feel that helpless. It was bad enough for the first time, and the last thing Akira wants is to do it again without so much as a plan this time. 

He does it anyway.

Akira comes out on the other side alive, and that’s...fine enough. Akira is fine. 

He buckles down and spends most days at Leblanc in anticipation of the day he needs to leave it behind. 

Sojiro makes things easy for him. He’s quiet, and he never startles Akira or makes him talk or makes him do anything but wash his own dishes. 

Ryuji tries to come over a few times, but Akira always manages to slip away to avoid actually talking to him. It’s too late now, he doesn’t have any time left to tell Ryuji anything that would make it worth it. He wasted the chance he had, and he’s fine with it. He can leave, and he won’t look back. He  _ won’t.  _ He can’t. 

Besides, he doesn’t know if he can look Ryuji in the eyes and not...break open.

Of course, avoiding him doesn’t work out. It was never going to work, and some part of Akira certainly knew as much. Ryuji must go directly to Sojiro or Futaba about it, because the next time Ryuji comes over Sojiro is out and Akira is stuck behind the counter. 

He has nowhere to run. That’s fine. Akira can handle this much. One conversation, how hard can it really be? 

“Hi,” Akira murmurs. 

He looks down at his hands, continuing to diligently clean the counters for the fourth time today. Maybe he missed a spot the first three times. 

“Did I do something?” 

Akira shakes his head, moving to make himself a cup of coffee. He needs to do something with his hands, calm the tremble in them somehow. The familiar motions of making coffee help, but not enough. 

It’s just Ryuji, but he can’t help but feel pressure settle over his shoulders. A sense of dread fill him, because all he can think is what he’s going to do if he somehow messes this up. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Ryuji prods. 

Akira feels him beating against the feeble walls he attempted to put up before he has to go back to his hometown. Relentless, easily tearing Akira open all over again.

“Do you want anything?” Akira asks. 

Desperate avoidance is all he can manage right now. 

“ _ Kira _ ...”

Akira clutches the mug in his hand so tightly he worries he’s going to break it. He thinks he’s shaking. He feels raw. 

His whole body hurts, his heart feels trapped in his ribs and his head pounds against his skull and everything aches because of the tension he can’t seem to let go. 

“It must’ve been hard, right? I’m sorry you had to go through that, I’m so sorry you felt like it had to be you.”

Akira drops the mug because he doesn’t have an answer. 

“Oops,” he murmurs.

And he starts cleaning it up. Big shards in a bag, carefully, he can’t hurt himself here. The smaller pieces get swept up, dumped into the bag with the rest. 

He hadn’t filled it, but now he takes a second mug down to pour the coffee he made into. 

He starts drinking it before Ryuji can force Akira’s mouth open again. All the things Akira hoards so close, none of it ends up mattering when Ryuji is in front of him. 

He’s always made Akira feel safe, and that’s a dangerous thing. 

“Akira, please tell me what I can do.”

Akira thinks he’s going to break either way. He can only bend so much, and he feels that tension building in his shoulders just waiting for the burst. 

The first crack appears in Akira’s heart, a place carefully carved out to make room for Ryuji when Akira didn’t even have room for himself. 

“I’m cold,” he murmurs. 

Ryuji is up. He’s already moving, Akira can’t stop the tears when they spill down his cheeks, he can’t shrug off Ryuji when he wraps Akira up in his jacket and starts bringing him upstairs. 

Akira hears the door open, hears Sojiro’s voice telling him he’s got it now, so he just goes. He lets Ryuji guide them up the stairs and he lets him sit Akira down on his bed. 

He lets Ryuji pull the jacket tighter, adjust it until it’s the way Akira likes it. 

When Ryuji wipes a tear from Akira’s cheek, the dam bursts.

Akira feels everything crawl right out of his throat. He doesn’t have a mind to form words, he only has enough for desperate sobs. 

Ryuji holds his face and kneels there in front of him while it all spills out. 

Even once Akira has hit the bottom of his well, when he feels empty, he can’t stop. He doesn’t have tears left, but his body still gives feeble attempts at purging the hurt deep in him. 

He knows it’s not going anywhere anytime soon. 

“Akira, look at me,” Ryuji says. 

It’s not so much a demand, not quite a question. Ryuji just says something, and Akira looks. 

Ryuji’s eyes are gentle and understanding. 

“I’m here. No matter what, you aren’t getting rid of me now.”

Akira opens his mouth. He struggles, but he manages. 

“I can’t stay. I know that, and I know everyone does. I...I  _ want  _ to. I want to stay.”

“I know—“

Akira slides off the bed and presses against Ryuji. Ryuji’s arms wrap around him as if moving with only instinct, and he holds on. Akira presses their edges together and wants to stay like this so badly it hurts. 

“You mean everything to me,” Akira murmurs. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do without you. I did it before, but now that I know I have better waiting for me...what now? Please, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Ryuji rubs his back slowly. There’s this beat of silence, in which Akira just waits with his heart in his throat. 

He spoke too much. That’s it, he just got himself into trouble because he broke the one rule he’s always tried to keep. He should’ve known better, should’ve known that even Ryuji would eventually get sick of him if he stopped listening. 

He’s being a burden. 

“Take my jacket with you,” Ryuji says. 

Akira somehow finds more tears to cry. 

“And hey if you need me to wash it we can meet in the middle some Sundays or something and figure it out.”

Akira presses his face against Ryuji’s shoulder closer. Closer than close. He wishes, not for the first time, that he didn’t ever have to untangle himself. 

“I wish...I’m going to miss you,” Akira admits.

“Hey Kira?”

Akira pulls back to wipe his face and look at Ryuji. 

Ryuji has a sheepish little smile tugging at his face, and Akira feels his chest warm pleasantly at the sight. In the end, this really is just Ryuji. Akira has been a worse mess before, it was silly to think this would be the last straw. 

“Mm?”

“Is this a bad time for a confession?”

Akira sits back until his back hits the edge of the crates that serve as his bed. 

“I mean...why not now?” Akira laughs. 

Something in Ryuji’s ensuing look makes his heart squeeze. Akira is consumed with this feeling in him, and for the first time...he drops the anxiety that tries to overpower it. And he lets it happen. 

Akira looks back and nods, trying to encourage Ryuji to continue. 

“This is a little embarrassing, but you know how all those rumors went around when you were wearing my jacket? About us dating and stuff?”

Akira tilts his head and remembers how he’d glared down at a poor first year for saying something nasty about Ryuji. That happened often, back during the first week or so of their  _ thing.  _

“Yes.”

“I meant to take my jacket back the first time, I swear. But I kinda liked hearing that stuff...liked that people thought you were mine, I guess. Not that I own you! Not that the rumors were even true, I just. It was nice, I think. So I let you keep it. It always seemed like it was the one thing you didn’t mind carrying around. Also you were cute in it so—“

“I  _ am  _ yours,” Akira blurts.

Ryuji kisses him, and it’s a mess. If either of them were slow for even a moment, it probably would’ve been fine, but that’s not really who either of them are. 

They bump noses, and it’s a press of lips that hurts because they come together so hard it clacks their teeth. 

Akira pulls back holding his mouth and swallowing tasting blood. 

“Ouch,” Ryuji groans. 

Akira thinks it’s perfect. 

And then they laugh, something disbelieving and embarrassed. 

It’s certainly the only way it ever would’ve gone. With the two of them, Akira wouldn’t expect anything else. 

But he thinks they’ll be alright. It’s Ryuji, and he’s Akira. 

Just like Ryuji said, they’ll meet one another in the middle. They will shift and change and come together until things fit as snugly as Ryuji’s jacket on Akira.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, feel free to come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Gillian01430581)


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